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BEYOND THE SUNSET 



BEYOND THE SUNSET 

LATEST POEMS 



BY 



JULIA C. R. DORR 

ti 



"My purpose holds 
To sail beyond the sunset and the baths 
Of all the Western stars until I die." 

— Tennyson's Ulysses. 



NEW YORK 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

1909 



Copyright, 1909, by 
Charles Scribner's Sons 



Published October, 1909 



24 8 



INVOCATION 

Sing thou my songs for me when I am dead! 
Soul of my soul, some day thou wilt awake 
To see the morning on the hilltops break. 

And the far summits flame with rosy red. 

But I shall wake not, though above my head 
Armies should thunder: nor for Lovers sweet sake. 
Though he the tenderest pilgrimage should make 

Where I am lying in my grassy bed. 
I shall be silent, with my song half sung: 
I shall be dumb, with half the story told: 

I shall be mute leaving the best unsaid. 

Take thou the harp ere yet it be unstrung — 
Wake thou the lyre ere yet its chords be cold — 

Sing thou my songs — and thine — when I am dead! 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Invocation v 

Prelude 3 

The Poet's Dower 5 

A Memory 6 

"A Dead Douglas" 7 

God's Hour 8 

The Oratory 9 

In the Church of the Good Shepherd . . 10 

The Days That Never Were . . . . 11 

R. E. R 12 

Crumbs 13 

An Accolade 14 

To a Late-comer 15 

When Dreams Depart 16 

vii 



via CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Revelation 17 

Homesick 18 

The Guests at the Inn 21 

Unreturning 25 

When I Sleep 28 

The Joy 30 

In Arcady 32 

To A Dandelion 34 

Two Loves 36 

A Far Cry 38 

Gethsemane 43 

The Carven Chest 45 

An Appeal 49 

A Class Poem 52 

An Answer to a Valentine . . . . 55 

The Voice of the Tower 56 

A Night Reverie 60 

"O Glad Young Year!" 64 



CONTENTS ix 

PAGE 

"Only" 66 

Awake 67 

Two Lyrics .69 

Thy Will 72 

To One Who Went to Carcassonne . . 75 

Moon Pictures 7^ 

Heart's Desire 80 

The Winds of God 82 

Spirit to Spirit 84 

All Loves in One 87 

With a Wedding Gift 9° 

Alpha and Omega 92 

"Beyond" 94 



BEYOND THE SUNSET 



BEYOND THE SUNSET 



PRELUDE 

When you can tell how the young grasses run 
With swift glad feet across the meadows dun; 
Or how the spring-time verdure softly creeps, 
A dream of silence, up the mountain steeps; 

When you can tell whence cometh form or hue, 
Or why the rose is red, the violet blue; 
Or how the lily from its murky bed 
White and unsullied lifts its queenly head; 

When you can name the serried ranks of stars 
That blaze beyond the midnight's ebon bars; 
Or count the waves that beat upon the shore 
Of isles where Ocean thunders evermore; 
3 



PRELUDE 

When you can tell what life is, and declare, 
Beyond a peradventure, whence the rare 
Essence of Being comes, or where it goes 
When the breath falters and the eyelids close; 

Then you can analyze the poet's dream, 
Its wild sweet rapture, its elusive gleam — 
And tell us why the song he sings to-day 
Is not the same that he sang yesterday! 



THE POET'S DOWER 

The whole wide earth, O poet, is thy dower! 

Claim thou its affluence as by right divine. 

For thee suns rise and set, and clear stars shine, 
Old ocean rolls, and far heights heavenward tower. 
The thrush and nightingale, and every flower 

Of every cUme and every age are thine ; 

All gods shall fill thy golden cup with wine, 
All prophets pledge thee in the uplifted hour. 
Thine are the mysteries of life and death ; 

All loves, all joys, all passion, and all pain, 
Temptations shared not, sins thou hast not known, 
False hopes, frail raptures trembling at a breath. 

The hero's ecstasy, the martyr's gain. 
The high prayer soaring to the Great White Throne! 



A MEMORY 

A GRAY sarcophagus beside a wall 

Crumbling and ivy-grown and gray with age, 
O'er which a yew-tree, on whose wrinkled page 

Was writ the lesson that Time writes for all, 

Whispered of years remote and past recall; 
Whispered of man's resistless heritage — 
Death and decay, Oblivion's stem gauge, 

And the long silences that round him fall. 

But lo! Kind earth and gentle winds had filled 
The empty shrine with largess! Tall grass grew 
And gay flowers bloomed, where once the dead had 
lain; 

Love built its nest there, and its rapture trilled; 

A white lamb cropped the young leaves wet with dew, 
And Life still lived where Life had once been slain! 



"A DEAD DOUGLAS" 

SEPTEMBER, I9OI 

When the great Chieftain falls the clans must weep! 
To-day their banners flame on all the hills, 
And, far or near, their solemn glory fills 

Valley and glen the while he lies asleep. 

The pibroch does not waken him; the deep. 
Wild slogan now his heart no longer thrills. 
Nor the loud summons when a Nation wills 

Its chosen Lord with it the tryst shall keep! 

Yea, clansmen, bear him to his sacred rest 

With muffled drums and trumpets breathing low ; 
There is no stain upon his spotless shield 

Nor on his hands close folded on his breast. 
Yet take ye courage, for full well ye know 

How "A Dead Douglas surely wins the field!" 



GOD'S HOUR 

O RESTLESS soul, canst thou not wait God's hour? 
"Let there be light" He said, and lo! the day 
Gilded the mountain-tops, and far away 
The dimpled valleys thrilled beneath its power, 
Claiming the glorious sunlight as their dower. 
*A myth, a fable that the wise gainsay? 
An idle tale for children at their play?' 
Yet fable is fair truth's consummate flower! 
Earth waited long till Day unheralded. 
Unsung, unprophesied, in splendor swept 
A radiant presence through the Orient gates. 
Not unto us shall the last word be said. 
Yet one sure secret have the ages kept- 
Light breaks at last on each high soul that waits! 



THE ORATORY 

In the high-vaulted temple of my heart 

There is an oratory thine alone — 

A sweet, hushed, sacred chantry all thine own. 
There do I fly when I would be apart 
To dream dear dreams, for there I know thou art, 

Albeit I see thee not. There is thy throne ; 

There thou art crowned, and as at altar-stone 
Fain would I kneel and let the day depart! 
While this remains I cannot lose thee, dear, 

Though countless centuries between us roll, 
Though earth dissolves, and planets disappear, 

And all the splendor of the starry scroll 
Dies out of heaven, what room is there for fear? 

Love still shall answer love, soul call to soul! 



IN THE CHURCH OF THE GOOD SHEPHERD 

MAITLAND, FLORIDA 

O THOU most dear, thy presence fills the place! 

Without, soft airs go wandering to and fro ; 

By the long path thy purple pansies glow ; 
While here within this silent, vaulted space 
Hearts faint with longing to behold thy face! 

Through the dim aisle the solemn chantings flow, 

And holy words are said, and prayers breathed low; 
How could thy voice pass, leaving here no trace? 

Yet still we see thee, hear thee, feel thee near. 
Somewhere thou art : and be thou near or far — 
Close as this rose, remote as yonder star — 
Not all the glories of the realms unknown. 
Nor time, nor space, can keep thee from thine own. 

Thy presence fills the place, O thou most dear! 



THE DAYS THAT NEVER WERE 

" O death in life, the days that are no more! " 

O DAYS that are no more! the lords of song 
Have sung your dirges, tolled your passing-bells, 
In tones more sad, more sweet, than funeral knells 

Through dim cathedral arches borne along. 

Back from the past they call ye, mighty throng! 
They wreathe your brows with golden asphodels, 
They weave for you all wonder-working spells, 

Sounding your praise in chorus full and strong. 

But who shall sing the song, O yearning heart! 
Of days that might have been, but never were, 
Dying unshriven in the womb of Time, 

Bearing in all this breathing world no part? 

Ah, bring for them the frankincense and myrrh, 
The vision splendid, and the gift sublime! 



R. E. R. 

No shadow darkens the resplendent day ! 

mother Nature, dost thou make no moan 
When he, thy son and lover, lieth prone, 

Breathless, and silent ? All thy hills are gay 
In pomp of gold and crimson, like the play 

Of royal banners shining in the sun, 

Proudly rejoicing as for victories won! 
Hath thy great heart no need to weep or pray ? 
And Nature answered : " Nay, I but rejoice ! 

1 bid my vales be glad, and all my streams ; 

I bid my mountains crown themselves with light, 
And every late bird lift a joyful voice ; 

For lo ! at length the radiant morning gleams, 
And he who once was blind hath done with night." 



I 



CRUMBS 

A PARABLE 

Only the crumbs, Lord, — but she finds them sweet ! 
Ah, not for her was the fair table spread 
With viands rare, rich fruits, and wheaten bread ! 

But when scant crumbs fall at the children's feet, 

May she not stoop to gather them and eat ? 
She craves no wine, nor roses white and red, 
Round her lone board their fragrant breath to shed ; 

Only for crumbs, dear Lord, doth she entreat ! 

For even crumbs may save a soul alive 
And keep a heart from starving. Thou dost know, 
Surely Thou knowest. Thou who didst create. 

Never on heavenly manna may she thrive 

Gathered each morning while the dawn-winds blow — 
Give her but crumbs in lieu of Love's estate ! 



13 



AN ACCOLADE 

O KNIGHTLY heart, God gives to thee a sign ! 
For thee the shrine was builded long ago, 
But long stood darkling, waiting for the glow. 

The warmth, the glory, and the breath divine. 

Lo! now to-day the altar-candles shine 
With sudden, starry splendor. To and fro 
The fragrant censers swing, and bending low 

Angelic spirits pour thee heavenly wine ! 

Drink it, great heart, nor fear to drain the cup. 
Thou hast kept holy vigil and art pure ; 
Thou hast kept knightly vigil and art strong ; 

Then proudly lift the royal banner up 
By right divine, unchallenged and sure — 
And God be with thee if the way be long ! 



14 



TO A LATE-COMER 

(w. p. s.) 

Why didst thou come into my life so late? 
If it were morning I could welcome thee 
With glad all-hails, and bid each hour to be 

The willing servitor of thine estate, 

Lading thy brave ships with Time's richest freight. 
If it were noonday I might hope to see 
On some far height thy banners floating free, 

And hear the acclaiming voices call thee great I 

But it is nightfall and the stars are out ; 

Far in the west the crescent moon hangs low, 
And near at hand the lurking shadows wait ; 

Darkness and silence gather round about, 
Lethe's black stream is near its overflow, — 
Ah, friend, dear friend, why didst thou come so late ? 



15 



WHEN DREAMS DEPART 

When dreams depart, then it is time to die. 

Nay, thou art dead when thy dear dreams depart, 
Even though thy ghost still haunts the crowded mart, 

Still with proud grace salutes the passer-by, 

Reaps golden grain when the hot sun rides high, 
Sails the far seas with compass and with chart. 
Of the worid's burdens bears its wonted part. 

Or faces doom with calm, undaunted eye. 

For dreams — they are the very breath of life ; 
The " little leaven " that informs the whole ; 
Wine of the gods, poured from the upper skies ; 

Manna from heaven, to nerve thee for the strife. 
Fetter thy dreams and hold them fast, O soul ! 
When they depart, it is thyself that dies. 



i6 



REVELATION 

I BUILT an altar to an unknown God 
Whom ignorantly I worshipped. To its shrine 
I brought rich gifts, oblations rare and fine; 
And in each pleasaunce where my young feet trod 
I sought the fairest flowers that decked the sod, 
Roses and lilies, sprays of eglantine, 
Myrtle and amaranth and lush woodbine 
To wreathe the altar of that unknown God 
Before whose shrine my heart knelt justified. 

Yet oft I feared ! One night when winds were 
mute 
And pale stars trembled in the heavens above, 
"Tell me thy name, thy blessed name !" I cried. 
Low came a whisper, soft as silver flute, — 
"Fear not, O child ! my only name is Love ! " 



17 



HOMESICK 

MY garden! lying whitely in the moonlight and the 

dew, 
Far across the leagues of distance flies my heart to-night 

to you, I 

And I see your stately lilies in the tender radiance 

gleam, 
With a dim, mysterious splendor, like the angels of a 

dream ! 

1 can see the stealthy shadows creep along the ivied 

wall, 
And the bosky depths of verdure where the drooping 

vine-leaves fall, I 

And the tall trees standing darkly with their crowns 

against the sky, 
While overhead the harvest moon goes slowly sailing by. 

i8 



HOMESICK 19 

I can see the trellised arbor, and the roses' crimson glow, 
And the lances of the larkspurs all glittering, row on row. 
And the wilderness of hollyhocks, where brown bees seek 

their spoil, 
And butterflies dance all day long, in glad and gay tur- 
moil. 

O, the broad paths running straightly, north and south 

and east and west! 
O, the wild grape climbing sturdily to reach the oriole's 

nest! 
O, the bank where wild flowers blossom, ferns nod, and 

mosses creep 
In a tangled maze of beauty over all the wooded steep! 

Just beyond the moonlit garden I can see the orchard 

trees. 
With their dark boughs overladen, stirring softly in the 

breeze, 
And the shadows on the greensward, and within the 

pasture bars 
The white sheep huddling quietly beneath the pallid stars. 



20 HOMESICK 

O my garden ! lying whitely in the moonlight and the dew, 
Far across the restless ocean flies my yearning heart to 

you, 
And I turn from storied castle, hoary fane, and ruined 

shrine. 
To the dear, familiar pleasaunce where my own white 

lilies shine — 

With a vague, half-startled wonder if some night in 

Paradise, 
From the battlements of heaven I shall turn my longing 

eyes 
All the dim, resplendent spaces and the mazy star-drifts 

through. 
To my garden, lying whitely in the moonlight and the dew ! 



THE GUESTS AT THE INN 

The Princess came to Bethlehem's Inn : 

The Keeper he bowed low ; 
He sent his servants here and yon, 

His maids ran to and fro. 

They spread soft carpets for her feet, 

Her bed with linen fine ; 
They heaped her board with savory meats, 

They brought rich fruits and wine. 

The Chieftain came to Bethlehem's Inn, 
With clash and clang of steel; 

Into the wide court swift strode he. 
And turned on armed heel. 



THE GUESTS AT THE INN 

* Room for your lord! " he cried aloud. 
''He brooks no long delay!" 
The Keeper and his servitors 
Did his behests straightway. 

The Merchant came to Bethlehem's Inn, 

Across the desert far, 
From Ispahan, and Samarcand, 

And hoary Kandahar. 

Rich Orient freight his camels bore : 

The gates flew open wide 
As in he swept, with stately mien, 

His long, slow train beside. 

The Pilgrim came to Bethlehem's Inn : 

Waywom and old was he, 
With beard unshorn and garments torn, 

A piteous sight to see! 

He found a comer dim and lone ; 

He ate his scanty fare ; 
Then laid his scrip and sandals by. 

And said his evening prayer. 



THE GUESTS AT THE INN 23 

The Beggar came to Bethlehem's Inn : 

They turned him not away ; 
Though men and maidens scoffed at him, 

They bade the varlet stay. 

"The dogs have room: then why not he?" 

One to another said ; 
"Even dogs have earth to lie upon, 

And plenteous broken bread!" 

Maid Mary fared to Bethlehem's Inn : 

Dark was the night and cold, 
And eerily the icy blast 

Swept down across the wold. 

She drew her dark brown mantle close, 
Her wimple round her head; 
"Oh, hasten on, my lord," she cried, 
"For I am sore bestead!" 

Maid Mary came to Bethlehem's Inn: 

There was no room for her ; 
They brought her neither meat nor wine, 

Nor fragrant oil, nor myrrh. 



24 THE GUESTS AT THE INN 

But where the homed oxen fed 
Amid the sheaves of com 

One splendid star flamed out afar 
When our Lord Christ was bom! 



UNRETURNING 

Now twice ten times the stately, silent years 
Have kept the midnight vigil, and passed on 
To the dim bourn where all the ages sleep; 
And twice ten times the watching stars have seen 
The glad young year upspringing with the dawn, 
Since thou didst cross this threshold to return 
No more, no more ! The house that thou didst build 
Still bears thy impress as in days of old. 
It hath a thousand tongues, and every one 
Is eloquent of thee. When spring returns. 
Each flower that blooms within the garden bounds 
Misses thy presence, and the broad straight paths 
Wait for the footsteps that they knew so well. 
The roses are less fair than when thy hand 
Trained them to beauty and to loveliness. 
Yet for thy sake they lift their glowing cups, 
Knowing thy wish and will. The winds that sigh 

25 



26 UNRETURNING 

Through the tall sheltering pines, and bend the ferns 
That cluster at their feet, still chant of thee 
In low, melodious cadence. And at night. 
When earth is hushed, and dewy calm lies deep 
On field and woodland, then the holy stars 
Shine on thy grave as once they shone for thee — 
Thou who wert wont to call them by their names, 
Searching the violet depths with reverent eyes 
And rapt, hushed vision, as the serried ranks 
Of the great constellations, one by one. 
Sought each its destined place, and planets burned, 
And the whole grand processional advanced 
In stately splendor up the darkening skies : 
Belted Orion, with his glittering sword. 
The fair, pale Pleiads and the Hyades, 
Red Aldebaran, Sirius white and cold, 
And, blazing in the zenith, fiery Mars! 

Yea, thou didst love this dear, green earth of ours, 

Its mountain peaks and its far-rolling seas. 

Its summer opulence, its winter snows. 

Where hath thy home been all these changeful years ? 



UNRETURNING 27 

Is it SO fair that it hath blotted out 

All memory of this? Eye hath not seen, 

Nor hath ear heard, nor heart of man conceived! — 

So runs the story of that other world 

Of which we dream so oft while knowing naught. 

But thou — thou knowest all! The mysteries 

That vex our questioning souls, vex thine no more. 

Now thou hast eaten of the Tree of Life 

That men call Death. Yet wheresoe'er thou art 

In God's great universe, dost thou not turn 

Sometimes from larger life and greater joys 

To this small leaf-clad orb, remembering still 

Its tender loves that held thy soul in thrall ? 

The earth is silent ; silent are the stars. 
The midnight heavens, and the wide fields of air ; 
No voice replies; no word or sign is given! 
But, be it soon or late, the day will come 
When I shall hear the summons to go hence — 
Whither I know not. Oh, be near me then! 
Keep tryst with me in that transcendent hour, 
And I shall tremble not, nor be afraid! 



WHEN I SLEEP 

When I sleep I do not know 
Where my soul makes haste to go, 
Through wide spaces faring forth, 
To the South or to the North, 
Faring East or faring West, 
Or on what mysterious quest. 

When I sleep my sealed eyes 
Ope to marvels of surprise ! 
Buried hopes come back to me, 
Long-lost loves again I see, 
Present, past, and future seem 
But as one, the while I dream. 
28 



WHEN I SLEEP 29 

When I sleep I wake again, 
Wake to love and joy and pain ; 
Wake with quickened sense to share 
Earth's beatitude of prayer ; 
Wake to know that night is done 
And a new, glad day begun ! 



THE JOY 

The joy is in the doing, 
Not the deed that's done ; 

The swift and glad pursuing, 
Not the goal that's won. 

The joy is in the seeing. 

Not in what we see; 
The ecstasy of vision, 

Far and clear and free ! 

The joy is in the singing. 
Whether heard or no ; 

The poet's wild, sweet rapture. 
And song's di\inest flow ! 

30 



THE JOY 31 



The joy is in the being — 
Joy of life and breath ; 

Joy of a soul triumphant, 
Conqueror of death ! 

Is there a flaw in the marble? 

Sculptor, do your best ; 
The joy is in the endeavor. 

Leave to God the rest ! 



IN ARCADY 

You have been in Arcady? 
Say you so ? say you so ? 
Where its peaceful rivers flow 
Do you know ? do you know ? 
Tell me quickly, tell me true, 
If the road is plain to you, 
Which way runs the path that leads 
To its fragrant, flowery meads ? 

Once I dwelt in Arcady — 
But 'twas long, long ago ! 
Oft I heard its soft winds blow, 
Sweet and low, sweet and low ; 
Once from morn till dewy night 
Rose its white towers in my sight, 
Like the castles wondrous fair 
Fancy paints in upper air. 



77V ARCADY 33 

Yes, we went to Arcady, — 
Oh, how long, long ago ! 
Youth and Love and I together 
In the early summer weather, 
When the skies were bright and^blue, 
And the earth was fresh with dew, — 
Ah, full well the way we knew 
Then, to happy Arcady ! 

Youth still dwells in Arcady, 

As so long, long ago ! 

Love still hears its soft winds blow 

Sweet and low, sweet and low ! 

I alone have lost the way ; 

I alone no longer stray 

Where its perfect roses gleam 

Like the splendors of a dream ; 

I shall see thee never more, 

Arcady, dear Arcady ! 



TO A DANDELION 

Little golden Dandelion, 

Shining in the sun, 
All the birds are singing now, 

Day is just begun. 
Grasses spring to greet thee ; 

Joy is everywhere, 
Light and song and fragrance 

Filling all the air ! 

Pallid, white-haired Dandelion, 

Swaying in the sun, 
Tall and slender, silver-crowned, 

Day is well-nigh done ! 
Fair and frail, O phantom. 

Thou art but a theme 
For a minstrel's singing. 

Or a poet's dream ! 
34 



TO A DANDELION 35 

Lo ! a breeze sweeps by thee ! 

Whither art thou flown ? 
All thy silver tresses 

To the winds are blown ! 
Whither now hath vanished 

All thy slender grace, 
All the starlike beauty 

Of thy perfect face ? 

Gone, all gone forever ! 

Nay — another spring 
Glad earth shall be gay again 

With thy blossoming. 
Death is life,— and life is joy ! 

Sleep in peace awhile, 
Till thou wakest, young and fair, 

In the Day- God's smile ! 



TWO LOVES 

One was a child's romance, 

A girl's bewildering dream, 
Woven of fire and dew 

And moonlight's silver gleam ; 
Of the fragrance of the rose. 

The glory of the stars, 
The flash of sparkling waters, 

The sunset's golden bars ! 
A thing of smiles and blushes, 

Quick thrills and throbbing heart, 
A strange, mysterious glamour 

That bade the tear-drops start. 

One was a woman's love. 

Woven of many strands. 
Richer than braided gold. 

Stronger than iron bands; 
36 



TWO LOVES 37 

A love that holier grew 

Through all the changeful years, 
That clasped close hands with joy, 

Yet wavered not for tears. 
A love that loved through all things, 

Through sorrow, pain, and death — 
Through all the bliss and all the bane 

To which life answerethl 



A FAR CRY 

'Tis a far cry to youth, O my soul, 

'Tis a far cry to youth ! 
Though the years have flown onward unheeding. 

Through gladness and travail and ruth, 
'Tis a far cry to youth, O my soul, 

'Tis a far cry to youth ! 

Wert thou I, O thou fair child-maiden, 

Who, ages and ages ago. 
Looked forth from the curve of yon mirror. 

Impatient life's meaning to know; 
To taste the red wine of its vintage. 

Its splendor, its rapture, its glow ? 
38 



A FAR CRY 39 

Thou hadst eyes like the pale stars of morning, 
Just tinged with the blue of the skies; 

Thy hair had the darkness of midnight, 
When the wraiths of the tempest arise, 

And thy cheeks wore the flush of soft carmine 
In the heart of the wild rose that lies. 



So young thou wert, child — so unwary! — 
Yet so eager to leam and to do. 

That the days were too short for thy living, 
As on in their courses they flew, 

And thy light feet kept time to earth's music, 
Whether treading on heart's-ease or rue! 



O, the magical glamour of moonlight. 
When love was a fairy dream; 

When romance, with its tremulous splendor, 
Gilded all life with its gleam; 

When the heart knew one song and one story- 
One lofty, bewildering theme! 



40 A FAR CRY 

When friendship was quick recognition 
Springing to life in a day ; 

When heroes wore crowns of laurels, 
And poets wore wreaths of bay ; 

When faith knew the joy of believing 
In Omnipotent Good alway ! 



Speak, child, for the years are many, 
And the past lies dim between, 

And I fain would read the riddle 
Of what thine eyes have seen — 

Thou mystic, silent wonder, 
Thou ghost of the might have been! 



Didst thou know when the morning-glory 
First sheathed its silver horn; 

When the roses drooped in the noontide, 
Of their early freshness shorn; 

And the wild birds ceased from singing 
In the heart of the woods forlorn? 



A FAR CRY 41 

Oh, speak! Didst thou know when the shadow 

That woman dreads drew nigh; 
When the young bloom slowly faded, 

And the young light left thine eye. 
And there fell a shower of snowflakes 

Where the dark locks used to lie ? 



Ah, maiden! the white-haired woman 

Is but thyself grown older ; 
She hath lost some dear illusions, 

Yet remembereth all you told her. 
And still your dreams and visions 

In the might of their love enfold her. 



For she knows what you but dreamed of ; 

She hath drained the beaker of life ; 
She hath trodden its red-hot ploughshares ; 

She hath faced its storm and strife ; 
She hath heard its divinest music, 

And danced to its lute and fife ! 



42 A FAR CRY 

O child, it is long since we parted ! 

But surely in some far clime 
We shall meet with tears and laughter 

Beyond the river of Time, 
And each in the clasp of the other 

Pass on to the Hills Sublime ! 



GETHSEMANE 

Darkness and silence and the breath of peace ! 
Then, lo ! a faint flush on the mountain peaks 
That broadens, deepens, till the full-orbed moon 
Soars in majestic splendor up the sky, 
Blotting the stars out ! 

Be thou still, my soul ! 
We who revere the mighty men of old- 
Sages and seers, and lords of high degree 
Who woke the harp and lyre, martyrs who died 
Defenders of the faith, and they who gave 
Their life-blood gladly on the battle-field ; 
Kings who ruled grandly for their people's weal, 
Wearing high crowns by right unchallenged— 
We roam o'er land and sea to tread the paths 
Their feet have hallowed, and to kiss the sod 
That was their birthright. What their hands have 
touched 

43 



44 GETHSEMANE 

We fain would touch ; and what their eyes have seen 
We joy to look upon. 

Yet every man 
Of woman bom since first the world was made, 
O fair white moon, hath gazed upon thy face. 
Awed by the splendor of thy loveliness ! 
Poet or painter, priest or king or clown. 
Noble or beggar, lover, peasant, slave,— 
All have rejoiced beholding thee so fair, 
Thou peerless wonder of the adoring skies ! 
Yea, every eye hath seen thee, even His 
Who knelt in lone Gethsemane what time 
His own forsook Him. Be thou still, my soul— 
What the Lord Christ beheld thou seest this night ! 



THE CARVEN CHEST 

"My little son, my little son," 

Thus Mary spake to him, 
What time he played with childish toys 

Within the chamber dim. 

" The day is done, my little son. 
Night draweth near," she said ; 

" Come to thy mother, little one. 
And rest thy weary head." 

The young child came with willing feet. 

And looked into her face ; 
Then nestled in her tender arms. 

Held in a close embrace. 
45 



46 THE CARVEN CHEST 

Lightly his fingers touched her brow ; 

Sighed he : "Why art thou sad? 
There is no laughter in thine eyes ; 

O mother dear, be glad !'* 

Then playfully and tenderly 
She clasped him to her breast; 

"Nay! but I smile, I laugh," she said. 
"Now close thine eyes and rest." 

But round the dim and shadowy room 
The wide eyes wandered. far. 

" What is this story that they tell 
Of shepherds and a star — 

"That led three wise men from the East 

Across the desert wold, 
Bearing unto a new-bom child 

Rich gifts and shining gold? 

" O mother dear, O mother dear, 

Tell me the baby's name, 
And why the angels sang of him, 

And why the wise men came ! " 



THE CARVEN CHEST 47 

Ah, then did Mary's heart beat fast ; 

Her lips crushed back a moan ; 
"Ask me not this, my little son, 

Till thou art older grown. 

"What thou knowest not, in God's own time 

He will make known to thee ; 
Sleep now, dear heart, and take thy rest 

Ere yet the dark hours be." 

But still the tireless lips went on: 
" I dreamed a dream last night— 

A wondrous dream of one who came 
Clad in a robe of light. 

" He led me to a carven chest, 

He turned a golden key ; 
But even as he raised the lid 

A cloud encompassed me, 

"And from the air, like music rare, 

A voice fell low and deep ; 
'The hour hath not yet come,' it said, 

'Let the child longer sleep.' " 



THE CARVEN CHEST 

The mother pondered silently, 

Her only answer this: 
To fold the drooping eyelids down 

And seal them with a kiss. 



AN APPEAL 

W. R. D. — ^H. R. D. 

Has the old pain been stilled? 

Are the old woes forgot? 
Art thou dwelling now, love, 

Where grief and care are not ? 

In that land are there any 
To call thee by thy name? 

To bless thee or caress thee? 
To praise thee or to blame ? 

In the house of many mansions 
Is there one all thine own, 

Where, O dear home lover. 
Thou dost set thy throne? 
49 



50 AN APPEAL 

Tell me, O well-beloved! 

O tell me, dost thou know 
How still through cloud and sunshine 

The earth days come and go ? 

I pray thee understand us! 

Life claims us for its own; 
Woven of light and darkness 

Its web is round us thrown. 

We sleep, we dream, we waken; 

We go our busy ways; 
We work, we play, we loiter, 

As in the olden days; 

We are glad in Nature's gladness; 

In color, light, and song; 
In the glory of the harvest 

When summer days are long; 

In the uplift of the mountains; 

The splendor of the seas; 
The flush of dawn and sunset; 

The freshness of the breeze; 



AN APPEAL 51 

In the joys that still are left us; 

In the loves that still are ours; 
In the hope that follows failure; 

In the calm of twilight hours. 

Yet think not we forget thee 

Whether we dream or pray! 
Art thou not glad, beloved, 

That we do not weep alway? 



A CLASS POEM 

Fair girls, with your sunlit faces 

Turned to the morning skies, 
With your lips attuned to laughter, 

And the young hght in your eyes, 
What message shall I bring you 

From the far Mount of Years ? 
Shall it be song or sermon ? 

A thing of smiles or tears? 

You know not yet what life is; 

Its heart's-ease and its rue. 
Its bitter-sweet and golden-rod 

Have blossomed not for you. 
You have but plucked the wild rose 

Blooming beside the way, 
And heard the thrushes' love song 

Borne on the winds of May. 
52 



A CLASS POEM 53 

Ah, well I know the wonder 

And the glory of it all, 
And how your hearts are bounding 

As at the trumpet's call! 
I know your dreams and visions 

Of the life that is to be— 
The glamour of moon and starlight. 

The magic of cloud and sea! 

To dream is sweet. But sweeter, 

Dear hearts, the awakening is; 
I, who have dreamed and wakened, 

I joy to tell you this. 
Illusion's frail white blossom 

May fade as climbs the sun, 
But the same sun ripens fruitage 

Fairer to look upon. 

For — Doing is better than Dreaming; 

August is richer than June; 
And the harvester's chant of labor 

Is set to a nobler tune. 



54 



A CLASS POEM 



Yet — Being is better than Doing! 

Hark ! How the music swells 
As the pageant of life sweeps onward 

To the pealing of mighty bells! 

And when Endeavor is over, 

As it must be, soon or late. 
It is good to sit in the twilight 

With folded hands and wait. 
It is good to know that the somng 

And the reaping all are done, 
And to leam that the star of evening 

Shines clear as the rising sun! 
Dana Hall, Wellesley, Mass., 1905. 



AN ANSWER TO A VALENTINE 

My true love sent me a valentine 

All on a winter's day, 
And suddenly the cold gray skies 

Grew soft and warm as May ! 
The snowflakes changed to apple blooms, 

A pink-white fluttering crowd. 
And on the swaying maple boughs 

The robins sang aloud. 

For moaning wintry winds, I heard 

The music sweet and low 
Of moming-glory trumpets 

Through which the soft airs blow. 
O love of mine, my Valentine ! 

This is no winter day — 
For Love rules all the calendars. 

And Love knows only May ! 



55 



THE VOICE OF THE TOWER 

ETHAN ALLEN 

Burlington, Vt., 1905 

Ye have builded me well, ye have builded me strong, 
And the years of my life shall be many and long ! 
O men of To-day, who have given me birth, 
My voice shall be heard through the confines of earth, 
Now deep as a mighty bell pealing afar, — 
Now clear and triumphant as bugle notes are, — 
Now strong as the wind's cry when tempests are out 
And the soul of the Storm- God responds with a shout, — 
Now soft as the murmur of slow-gliding streams. 
Or as Love's tender whispers when heard in your 
dreams ! 

The mountains shall hear it, and echo the strain 
As they lift their proud heads over valley and plain, 
And the broad lake, unresting, on waves rolling free 
Shall carry my message to river and sea. 

56 



THE VOICE OF THE TOWER 57 

All its islands shall listen, as tranquil they lie 
Looking up day and night to the fathomless sky; 
All the forests that stretch to the north and the west 
Are akin to my soul, I will answer their quest ; — 
And one day — who knoweth? — through cloudrifts and 

bars 
Some strong breath of mine may float up to the stars ! 

men of To-day, who have set me on high, 
Beneath me the great rock, above me the sky, 

Ye have builded me well ; ye have fashioned my form 
In the strength that does battle with tumult and storm! 

1 am one with the ages. Their secrets are mine 
Since you poured on my forehead the chrism divine 
And bade me outlive ye. For ah, ye must pass 

As the mist on the mountain, the dew on the grass, 
While I — I shall live while the centuries sweep 
In processional glory from deep unto deep ! 

Your children, and their children's children shall hear 
The voice of the Tower ring loudly and clear ! 
It shall tell them of him in whose honor to-day 



58 THE VOICE OF THE TOWER 

Drums beat, trumpets blare, and the wild bugles play. 
Bid him come from Valhalla with eyes bright and bold 
This fair stretch of earth once again to behold, 
Bringing with him his comrades, the valiant and brave, 
Who lived not for fame but their country to save. 
— Ah, they come ! They are here ! They encompass 

me round. 
Though ye see not, and feel not, and hear not a 

sound ! 

Beat louder, O drums ! and, ye trumpets, lift high 
Your jubilant notes till they fill the wide sky ! 
Shout, freemen ! who hold the broad land of their love. 
The land they esteemed all things earthly above ! 
They have come at your call from the realm where they 

dwell. 
With the infinite hosts who have borne their parts well, 
And the great of all climes and all ages are fain 
To join the loud paeans and swell the refrain. 
Pledge them honor and fealty ! Tell them to-day 
That they live in your hearts and shall live there 

alway ! 



THE VOICE OF THE TOWER 59 

I shall stand on my rock as the years come and go, 

And whether the ages pass swiftly or slow, 

They shall hear the proud story of chivalrous youth, 

Of honor unsullied, of courage and truth, 

Of patriot ardor, of valor sublime 

That soars like a bird o'er the wreckage of time ; — 

Of all souls that undaunted face danger and death. 

Counting all that life holds as the gossamer's breath 

Save the love of the highest, the love that looks up 

In the face of the Highest — and draineth the cup ! 



A NIGHT REVERIE 

Now day is done, and heart and hand may rest! 
The calm of night is on the dreaming earth ; 
The soft winds sleep, and famtly from afar 
The night-bird's lone and melancholy cry 
Makes the wide silence deeper. Stealthily 
The noiseless shadows creep from tree to tree; 
All silently the darkling river flows; 
All quietly the watching stars look down 
On hills and valleys wrapped in deep repose. 

O hush, hush, hush! It is the time for prayer- 
The time for visions — and the hour for dreams! 
Breathe thou no whisper. Let no voice profane 
The holy silences of earth and heaven. 

Darker and darker still! The mighty dome 
Of yon great maple lifts itself on high 
In worship of the Infinite. Then a glow 
60 



A NIGHT REVERIE 6i 

Fainter than that of dawning steals athwart 
The lower heavens, and earth, breathless, waits 
Moment by moment, till the mountain peaks 
Startled from slumber put their glory on — 
And lo! the harvest moon! 

Thou glorious One! 
Shall frail man call thee dead, thou who hast seen 
Eons and cycles pass, and centuries 
Seek one by one the bourn whence none returns, 
And generation after generation fall 
As falls the grass before the mower's scythe. 
To die and be forgotten ? And yet thou, 
Fair Queen of Heaven and Ruler of the seas. 
Thou art to-night resplendent and unworn 
As when the first man saw thee part the clouds, 
And all the stars and planets hid abashed 
Before thy majesty! 

Ah, couldst thou speak, 
Couldst thou but tell us what thine eyes have seen, 
How would all human annals pale, and fade 
To utter nothingness! For thou, O Moon, 
Thou hast seen all things! From creation's dawn. 



62 A NIGHT REVERIE 

Through night to day, through chaos to the reign 

Of peace and order and the sure return 

Of season after season, till at length 

Earth stood forth radiant in the smile of God, 

Thou hast beheld the whole, and watched the growth 

Of man from the beginning. Thou hast seen 

The cave-men and the dwellers in the rocks; 

And them that dwelt in tents and roamed the plains; 

And them that built great cities, proudly fair 

With domes and temples, and the stately shrines 

Wherein strange gods sat throned in majesty. 

And thou hast seen them crumble, stone by stone. 

And desert sands drift o'er them till the wolf, 

The jackal, and the tiger, reared their young 

In the vast solitudes. Thou didst look on 

While Rhamses and Sesostris builded high 

The mighty pyramids that mock at death. 

And when great Thothmes bade the Sphinx keep guard 

Forever at the Gate of Mysteries. 

Thou hast seen empires rise and empires fall. 

And states and kingdoms blossom and decay; 

Battle and tumult, and the flaming sword 



A NIGHT REVERIE 63 

Blazing before lost Edens — and each night 
In every age and every clime new graves! 
Earth wearies of them — of her graves that lie 
On every hilltop, and in every vale — 
For everywhere man dies! 

But all unchanged 
Thou dost behold the tireless years sweep on, 
Seedtime and harvest bringing and the sure 
Return of autumn with its golden spoil, 
The richest freight in God's great argosies. 

Silent art thou, O Moon! and on thy face 
Dwells immemorial calm, the calm of one 
Who sees the end from the beginning. Thou — 
Thou, and Orion, and Alcyone, 
And all the stars that gem the midnight heavens — 
Ye know that all is well, that Law is Love, 
And life and death alike do the Lawgiver's will. 



"O GLAD YOUNG YEAR!" 

Thy feet are light upon the morning hills, 

O glad young year! 
What dost thou bring to man, or bliss, or ban. 

Or joy, or hope, or fear, 
O glad young year? 

A gay voice floated from the untroubled sky 
Like a child's laugh, — " Mortal, I know not, I ! " 

Thy face is hidden, though thy steps are light, 

O blithe young year! 
Lift thou the veil ! Art thou not passing fair, 

As fair as thou art dear — 
O blithe young year? 

A voice replied from out the unf athomed sky — 
" I show my face to no man, no, not I ! " 
64 



"O GLAD YOUNG YEARl" 65 

In a twelve-month thou wilt be old and wan, 

Thou short-lived year! 
Thou wilt have gone where centuries lie dead. 

Ere then, what cheer? What cheer? 
Speak thou, O year! 

A deep voice echoed from the far-off sky — 

" Ask me not thou ! Mortal, God knows — not I ! " 



"ONLY" 

Only a footstep at the door; 

A shadow on the wall; 
Fine courtesies; some tender words- 
And that was all! 

Only a dream that ne'er came true; 

Yet held the heart in thrall; 
A memory that would not die — 
And that was all! 

Only a wistful face whereon 

Time's deepening shadows fall; 
A heart-cry for what never was — 
And that is all ! 



66 



AWAKE 

Awake, awake, beloved! 

The Christmas mom is here; 
O'er valley, plain, and mountain-top, 

The Day-star shineth clear. 

O hark, O hark, beloved! 

Hear ye earth's glad acclaim; 
To-day in every land and clime 

Men breathe the Christ-Child's name. 

We need no choiring angels, 
Nor myth, nor legend dear; 

We know Jehovah liveth. 
We know the Christ is here. 
67 



68 AWAKE 



Lo! at the door He knocketh — 
He waits our love to win; 

Awake, awake, beloved. 
Rise up, and let Him in! 



TWO LYRICS 

ADAPTED FROM THE ITALIAN OF VITTORIA MARINI 
I. — ^A MYSTERY 

O STRANGE, mysterious guest, 

Whence dost thou come to me ? 
From what far realm where silver stars 
Shine soft beyond the sunset bars? 
Across what crystal sea? 

Thou art no laughing Love, 

Rose-crowned and garianded, 
With young Dreams floating at thy side, 
While Joy swings all her portals wide, 

And Fear and Doubt have fled. 
69 



70 TWO LYRICS 

Thy face is turned away, 
I cannot see thine eyes; 
I know not if they look on me 
Or kindly, or reproachfully. 
Or wide with slow surprise. 

Why hast thou sought my door, 

O thou unbidden guest? 
To bid thee go I do not dare. 
Nor to come in my cup to share, — 
Tell me thy name and quest! 

II. — A MYSTERY SOLVED 

Come in, thou heavenly guest, — 

Lo! I fling wide the door! 
At last, at last, I see thy face 
All radiant with celestial grace; 
Come, to go forth no more! 

Come in, thou strange, sweet guest! 

Proudly I bid thee stay; 
I know thee now for what thou art. 



TWO LYRICS 71 

The one sole warder of my heart, — 
Keep thou the key alway! 

Come in, imperious guest! 

To thy behest I yield; 
I give my soul, my heart, my hand. 
Surrendering all to thy command, — 

Be thou my crown and shield! 

Come in, thou kingly guest! 

Low in the dust I bow; 
I kneel to bathe thy royal feet. 
Bringing rich balms and odors sweet, — 

Lord of my life art thou! 



THY WILL 

When the radiant morning skies 
Met my half-awakened eyes; 
When I looked abroad to see 
Early dew on flower and tree; 
When the matin-birds were singing, 
And the hills with joy were ringing, 
It was easy then to say, 
"Lord, thy will be done alway! 

" If Joy he thy minister, 
I will clasp glad hands with her: 
If Thou sendest pallid pain, 
My strong sotd shall not complain: 
I will quiet he, nor fret 
Though my path with thorns he set: 
Patient thread each tangled maze, 
Going softly all my days^ 
72 



THY WILL 73 

Youth is confident and wise 
In its own unerring eyes, 
Solving with unbated breath 
Mysteries of life and death; 
Challenging both time and fate; 
Sure to conquer soon or late; 
Discounting all grief and loss, 
Sharpest pang, or heaviest cross. 

What knew I of pain or woe 
When life wore its eariy glow. 
And in measureless content 
Down its sunHt ways I went? 
What of grief when I could borrow 
From all winds surcease of sorrow? 
Lord, thy will and mine were one 
When youth sang, — " Thy will he done/" 

Yet,— O Father, Thou art just 
To thy children of the dust! 
If when hours of darkness come 
Strong hearts fail, and lips are dumb, 



74 



THY WILL 

And our fainting spirits shrink 
From some fateful river's brink, 
Then teach thou our souls to say, — 
'^ Lord, Thy will be done this dayP^ 



TO ONE WHO WENT TO CARCASSONNE 

I CAN scarce believe the tale 
Borne to me on every gale! 
You have been to Carcassonne? 
Looked its stately towers upon ? 
Trod its streets where, blithe and gay, 
Knights and dames in bright array 
Loitered in the evening glow. 
Doffed their hats, or curtsied low, 
When "two Generals," proud as they, 
Gave "the Bishop" right of way? 

Ah, the Cite on its hill! 
Did you climb with right good will 
Up to heights where banners fly 
Red and gold against the sky? 
Did the lofty ramparts gleam 
75 



76 TO ONE WHO WENT TO CARCASSONNE 

Like the pageants of a dream? 
Battlements and bastions soar 
Like great mountains high and hoar, 
While from azure skies the sun 
Shone on mighty Carcassonne ? 

Carcassonne is not a myth — 
Just a name to conjure with? 
Figment of a poet's brain, 
Child of his own joy and pain ? 
Do men live in Carcassonne — 
Love and labor, strive and die, 
Pray vain prayers for bliss unwon, 
Lift pale faces to the sky? 
In its streets do children play, 
Laughing, shouting, all the day? 

You have been to Carcassonne. 
Then for you the goal is won; 
You have grasped the unattained; 
What we long for, you have gained. 
All men go to Arcady— 



TO ONE WHO WENT TO CARCASSONNE tj 

Dear, dream-haunted Arcady; 
Soon or late, they breathe its air, 
Leam its language, pray its prayer, 
Linger there till dreams are done, — 
Yet — ^few go to Carcassonne! 



MOON-PICTURES 

A SLENDER crescent in the opal west, 
Low-hung above a mountain's darkening crest — 
A silent dream above a world at rest. 

The bending curve of the horizon bar — 
A silver boat moored high in depths afar, 
Cradling in tender arms one lone bright star! 

An orchard close where wandering moonbeams strayed. 
Weaving weird tapestries of light and shade, 
And fairy paths for fairy footsteps made. 

A great white harvest moon, divinely fair, 
Slow sailing through resplendent seas of air, 
Over dark pine-trees, and a garden rare. 



78 



MOON-PICTURES 79 

A broad street flooded with the silver flow 
Of the white moonbeams on new-fallen snow, 
While, overhead, cloud shapes swept to and fro; 

A curtained window and a casement low, 

And a fair woman in the radiant glow 

On whom the king smiled, passing, long ago! 



HEART'S DESIRE 

" God give you your heart's desire, 

Whatever it be," she said; 
Then down the gallery's shining length 

Like a thing of light she sped. 

Her face was a stranger's face; 

Her name I shall never know; 
But softly her benediction fell 

As the night-winds breathing low. 

Who knoweth the heart's desire ? 

Its innermost secret dream ? 
Its holiest shrine where the altar-lights 

Forever and ever gleam ? 
80 



HEARTS DESIRE 8i 

Who guesseth the heart's desire? 

Ah, neither you nor I! 
It hideth away in darkling space 

From the gaze of the passer-by. 

Who giveth the heart's desire 

To the child that cries for the moon? 

Or the samite robe and the Holy Grail 
To the soul that was bom too soon ? 

Who giveth the heart's desire 

To the lover whose love lies dead? 

Or the priest who faces the silence 
With the living word unsaid? 

Who giveth the heart's desire 
To the poet with harp unstrung, 

When he turns from the trembling lyre 
With his noblest song unsung? 



THE WINDS OF GOD 

" Go thou to her, O Rose, 
And hear this word from me, 

Tell her,— 'By every wind that blows 
I send my love to thee.^ " 

The mighty winds go by 

On their unerring quest; 
I hear their strong wings as they fly 

From sea to mountain crest. 

The jocund winds go by, 
Like children mad with glee; 

They toss the shrinking leaves on high: 
They gayly mock at me! 
82 



THE WINDS OF GOD 83 

The moaning winds go by 

Sobbing from pole to pole; 
Sleepless I hear their bitter cry — 

Their wail of want and dole. 

The winds of God go by 

In fathomless unrest; 
The north winds to the south reply, 

The east winds to the west. 

All winds of God go by ! 

It matters nought to me; — 
They bring not from the earth or^sky 

One word of love from thee! 



SPIRIT TO SPIRIT 

Eons, or centuries, or years ago — 

We two were man and woman, thou and I, 
On yon dear earth now swinging far below 
The star-mists floating by. 

But now we are two spirits, in the wide 

Mysterious realm whereof all mortals dream; 
The unknown country where the dead abide 
Beyond the sunset gleam. 

And I — I cannot find thee anywhere! 

I roam from star to star in search of thee; 
I wander through the boundless fields of air, 
And by the crystal sea. 

84 



SPIRIT TO SPIRIT 85 

I scan all faces and I question all; 

I breathe thy name to every wind that blows; 
Through the wide silences I call and call — 
But still the silence grows. 

Dost thou remember how, one midnight drear, 

We sat before a fading fire alone. 
Dreaming young dreams the while the wan old year 
Reeled from his trembling throne ? 

And thou didst whisper, " Dear, from farthest skies, 
From utmost space, my love shall summon thee. 
Though the grave-mould lie darkly on thine eyes. 
To keep this tryst with me!" 

Was it last year? O Love, I do not know! 

The high gods count not time. We are as they. 
All silently the tides of being flow; 
A year is as a day! 

I only know I cannot find thee, dear! 

This mighty universe is all too wide; 
Where art thou ? In what far-removed sphere 
Is thought of me denied? 



I 



86 



SPIRIT TO SPIRIT 



New lives, new loves, new knowledge, and new laws! 

I still remember. Does thy soul forget ? 
Heart unto heart if love no longer draws, 
Then the last seal is set! 



ALL LOVES IN ONE 

Only in day-dreams do I dream of thee! 
By day our Past moves ever by my side, 
A mystic Presence of majestic mien, 
In samite clad white as its stainless soul,— 
And eyes like his who sought the Holy Grail. 

By day, by day, O thou beloved and lost! 
Under the hidden current of my life 
The thought of thee runs ever, tingeing all 
With its own color, even as the sky 
Lends its own azure to the sleeping lake. 

By day, by day, the soft airs breathe thy name; 
The strong winds bear it on their mighty wings; 
The whispering pines repeat it to their kin; 
Each flower speaks of thee, and the red rose breaks 
Its box of precious ointment at thy feet. 

87 



88 ALL LOVES IN ONE 

All times are thine. All seasons are thine own; 
The joy of spring, fair summer's golden prime, 
Autumn's rich splendor, and the winter snows; — 
The flush of dawn, noontide, and lengthening shades. 
Sunset and moonrise and the evening star. 

All poets sing of thee. All tender lays 
Of ancient minstrelsy seem bom of thee; 
Music high-soaring to the gates of Heaven, 
The martial drum, the trumpet's long appeal. 
The requiem low, — taps, and the last salute. 

Only in day-dreams dream I now of thee! 

Once when night came and my glad soul sprang free 

From the close bonds of sense, I dreamed and dreamed! 

I was a young child sitting at thy knee 

And shyly groping for thy tender hand; 

Thy mother, in all humble, household ways 
Ministering to thee, bringing food and wine; 
Thy comrade, reading from the self-same book 



ALL LOVES IN ONE 89 

And conning life's hard lessons, one by one; 
Thy friend, thy lover, giving kiss for kiss. 

And sometimes through the world of dreams there swept, 
Like the swift shadows over meadow grass, 
Such strange, fantastic visions that I laughed 
And wept — all in one breath! How will it be 
When after life's long dream I sleep indeed? 



WITH A WEDDING-GIFT 

Long years ago, the legends say — 

It may have been in far Cathay, 

In Kerdistan, or Samarkand, 

Agra, Tabriz, or Saraband, 

Where palm-trees wave, and golden showers 

Fall from the sweet acacia bowers^ 

Heir to the worker's heritage, 

From year to year, from youth to age, 

In a low chamber's cloistered gloom 

A weaver sat before his loom. 

I know not if the tale be true; 
As told to me, I tell to you. 
Above his loom this pattern hung, 
Designed by one who died unsung, 
Unknown, unheralded, his fame 
90 



WITH A WEDDING-GIFT 91 

Not even the shadow of a name; 
But day by day the weaver wrought 
Embodying the creative thought, 
Until his own dream grew more real 
And perfect than the fair ideal. 

So at our loom of life we weave 
From sunlit mom to darkening eve. 
We toss the shutde to and fro, — 
The varied colors come and go, — 
A bright thread here, a shadow there. 
Perchance strange tangles everywhere. 
Yet fear not, faint not! He whose hand 
Follows the Master's high command 
Shall weave a web more perfect far 
Than even the dreams of angels are! 



ALPHA AND OMEGA 

The first and the last art thou — 
The Morning and Evening Star; 

The dawn and the sunset gleam 
On the dim horizon bar; 

The bud and the perfect flower; 

The seed and the ripened grain; 
Spring-time and harvest art thou — 

The cloud and the latter rain! 

Thou art the word of the Prophet, 
And the Prophet's word fulfilled; 

Thou art Miriam's song of triumph, 
And the anthem not yet stilled. 
92 



ALPHA AND OMEGA 93 

Thou art the throne and the sceptre, 

Thou art freedom's latest sign; 
The cry of the martyred people, 

And the grasp of the Hand Divine! 

Thou art the prayer and its answer; 

The dream and the heart's desire; 
The spark in the smouldering embers, 

The leap of the altar fire! 

Oh! the eons may come and go, 
And the stars bum out in the sky; — 

Thou wilt still be the first and the last 
While the endless years roll by! 



"BEYOND" 

Beyond the sunset's crimson bars, 
Beyond the twilight and the stars, 
Beyond the midnight and the dark, 
Sail on, sail on, O happy barque, 
Into the dawn of that To-morrow 
Where hearts shall find the end of sorrow 
And Love shall find its own! 



94 



1 1»09 



DEL. TO CAT > -^ 

NOV 6 i^Ui^ 



